Escape from Mr. Whitman (Emma and Theodore) novel Chapter 13

Emma watched as Theodore and Cecilia, after only a moment’s awkwardness, slipped easily into their new roles. The pair were soon laughing and chatting with their business partners, as if they’d been a team all along.

They looked perfect together…

Emma, feeling the sharp ache in her chest intensify, quietly snapped a photo of them. Even as she turned to leave, that buried needle of pain twisted deeper, its sting spreading through her chest until her nose prickled with the threat of tears.

“Emma!” Someone called her name just as she was about to leave the mall.

She turned and saw a woman waving enthusiastically from the descending escalator.

Her heart skipped. It was her old teacher–her former dance instructor!

“Ms. Brown!” Emma’s face lit up in genuine surprise.

Ms. Brown hurried off the escalator and reached for Emma’s hands, her own face alight with joy. “I thought it was you! One shout and here you are. How have you been? It’s been, what, five years?”

Emma’s happiness faded, replaced by a pang of guilt.

Five years. In that time, her life had unraveled. She hardly felt worthy to stand before

her teacher now.

“Are you busy? If not, let’s find a place for afternoon tea.” Ms. Brown was already guiding her gently by the hand.

She wasn’t busy. Once, she might have let insecurity keep her hiding from everyone connected to the dance world. She’d have made an excuse and run. But recently, after opening that old album of dance photos on her phone, it was as if the darkness overhead had split, letting in a shaft of light.

Suddenly, she found herself yearning for more of that light.

She nodded, blinking away tears. “I’d love that, Ms. Brown.”

Ms. Brown led her to a cozy tearoom on the first floor, all floral china and soft music–classic English afternoon tea.

“Ms. Brown, how are the others? My classmates?” Emma asked as they settled in. She’d been out of touch for so long, quitting all her group chats, cutting herself off

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from the world she used to belong to.

Ms. Brown studied her with a sharp, knowing look. “Do you really want to know?”

Ms. Brown was one of the few who knew the truth. Emma had been lined up for a graduate scholarship, then withdrawn overnight. Her teacher had even made a special trip to Cravenhill to check on her.

Emma nodded emphatically.

So Ms. Brown shared the news.

Five years was enough to change a life. Her old classmates had gone on: some had joined professional dance companies and become principal dancers; some had gone abroad and already completed their doctorates; others had stayed at the academy to teach and nurture the next generation.

Each of them had taken bold steps forward on their chosen paths.

Everyone but her…

But today, something felt different. Starting now, she would change too. She’d fight to catch up. Even if she could never dance again, she would find her place in another

world.

“Ms. Brown, I… I think I’m ready to show you what I can do.” Her eyes burned with emotion, shame and hope warring inside her.

“That’s what I want to hear.” Ms. Brown’s smile was just as warm as Emma

remembered.

Leaning in, Emma whispered her big news: she was planning to study abroad.

Ms. Brown’s face lit up. “That’s wonderful! I knew it! None of my students are quitters.” She squeezed Emma’s hand, voice full of pride. “And it just so happens we’re doing a tour in Europe soon–why don’t you come along? It’ll be good for you to get a taste of life over there.”

“But I…” Emma hesitated, glancing down. Would her leg hold up? She could barely walk at a normal pace, let alone dance. She’d even switched to a theory major for grad school.

“Nonsense! You’d have been part of the youth troupe already if it weren’t for the accident. This time, you’ll come as our assistant–help backstage, with costumes, makeup. We need all hands, and you’ll be one of us.”

Ms. Brown’s tone brooked no argument; she didn’t treat Emma like she was broken.

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Emma couldn’t help but laugh, a genuine one. It felt so good not to be seen as fragile, to be given a chance to help, to be more than her injury.

Ms. Brown’s phone buzzed with a message.

“It’s my husband,” she explained with a smile. “Would you mind if he joins us for tea?”

“Of course not.” Emma returned the smile, though her heart thumped with nerves.

After so many years shut away, even meeting a stranger felt daunting. But today, she was willing to take that first step. She had to start somewhere.

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Chapter 14